Diamond Scraps
by ChibiChen
Summary: An AU fic based on 'Diamond in the Rough' and 'Mind the Gap! What happens when Issac wakes up to a destroyed Gensokyo following the Diamondback incident? WARNING: Contains spoilers for Diamond in the Rough!
1. Ashes, Ashes

The rocks falling, the screams coming from his own throat, the crushing darkness, he could feel them all around him. It happened again and again. It felt like every time he woke up, he was waking up into the same events, every time.

It felt like years, years he had been trapped in this vision of the past. Every time the ground caved under him after he felt a black blade enter his chest. Something was wrong with it.

Nothing ever lined up. Sometimes there were other faceless people. Sometimes there was something else with him. Every time it ended in failure. Not this time. He had gone through it so many times; he knew everything that was going to happen before it did. He dodged the rocks, he jumped over the bullets, and his weapon hit its mark. He had nothing to lose, and going through this so long had drained him of mercy.

He attacked, all out, nothing held back. His hands broke, his head bled. His arms felt like rubber as he kept beating the man in front of him to a bloody pulp. He didn't stop until there was nothing but bloody twitching pulp next to him…..then he fell to his knees and started to cry.

He wasn't a killer. He was a mechanic for Pete's sake. He cried to the heavens. He cursed them, and everything that resided in them, all for putting him in the in the place he stood. Rain washed down, pulling the blood from his clothing, his face, his shirt.

Tears fell to his cheeks as he felt a hand on his shoulder. A person was looking down to him over his shoulder. They knelt down next to him, saying nothing as he wept. It was a while before a voice entered his thoughts.

"Your hour has come again. The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world. So wake up Issac, wake up and smell the ashes." The voice left him, and he felt himself jerk forward. He was out of the dream…and into a nightmare.


	2. We all fall down

Issac took a deep breath. His hand went to his chest, feeling the place where bandages sat. Where was he? How long had he been here? These questions plagued him as he stood, slowly grabbing the closest thing to him to help him rise. He took a moment to steady himself, happily feeling the familiar roughness of jeans against his legs. What ever happened, He still had his pants, and he had a bit of dignity because of it, not that it mattered much.

With the comfort of the thoughts of dignity, he started walking, moving himself to the only source of light in the room, a screen door that he slid open. He wasn't sure how he knew it was a door. Something in the back of his mind told him that. He ignored it like a fly buzzing around his ear, and stepped out into the hall.

As soon as he stepped out of the room, his nose was assaulted by a group of smells he had wished were as vague to him as this place. Antiseptic, blood, and more than a hint of something his mind couldn't, or wouldn't, identify. He pushed the scents out of his mind and started walking down the hall, having to brace himself against the wall every few rooms he passed. "Hello?" He asked, looking down the hall.

Nothing but darkness responded. He could hear things moving, something outside of where he could see. It was the rushing activity of things moving with purpose, but moving frantically. It was…unnerving. So much activity, so close, yet he couldn't see any of it. He pushed his body forward, hanging on the wall to keep himself from falling. "Hello?" He called out again. This time it echoed on the walls, changing as it bounced, eventually coming back to his ears, mocking his plight to find something else.

He grunted, pushing himself off the wall, his body complaining with every step. He ignored its complaints, and continued down the dark hall. The sounds grew louder, growing harder and harder to understand as they all started coming together. It slowly went from the whisper of feet on the other side of the wall, to the yelling and screaming of a battle.

Weapons crashed, energy crackled, lights flashed, all on the other side of the door he stood before. The shadows danced around him, laughing at him as he took a step back, afraid this was just his dream repeating itself in a different form. Issac steeled himself and slid the door opening, dashing inside, hands in front of his face as he dashed, expecting a battle.

What he got, was a nearly empty, dark room. It was larger than the hall, and looked like a lobby, or it would, if there were not cots sitting off to the side, empty. They looked like they had only recently been used, but had yet to have been put away. The room was almost silent, the swish of a bottle and the soft crackling of a wooden wick providing the only noise.

'What happened to the battle?' A sniffle sounded out as Issac thought to himself. It brought him back to his senses and pulled him down to look upon the woman sitting on a single cot. Judging by the bottle and melted candle in front of her, she had been there at least a few hours.

She was a good looking woman, silver hair hidden by dancing shadows, held in place by a well-worn hat. She gently took the bottle in front of her and took a drink, letting out another sob as she put it back down. Issac…Nothing made sense to him, but one thing stood in his mind. "Is something wrong miss?" He asked, gently sitting down on the cot next to her.


	3. Lean on me

The woman looked like she would have jumped up, had the drink in her hands not deadened her reactions. She simply looked over to him, her ageless face not complimented by the bloodshot eyes and the blush that came from crying and drinking. She simply nodded her head and went back to looking down at the table in front of her.

If she recognized him, she didn't let it show. She took the last drink from her bottle shaking it above her mouth to get the last drop before she threw the battle at the wall, shattering it. There seemed to be a pile of bottle shards below that point, making it seem more time had passed since she had started sitting there. 'What time is it?' Issac asked himself, looking to the shards as the woman took another bottle from the ground and started to open it.

'That was more than enough.' Issac thought, taking the bottle out of her hand. She let it go, but pawed at it with her hands, too drunk to notice he was hurt and bandaged, not a condition to keep the bottle from her if she tried hard enough. After she noticed that she wouldn't get it back by force, she looked to him with sad eyes, trying to get him to pity her into giving it back.

Needless to say, that didn't work, forcing her to pout and stare into the candle. She watched the flame dance for a long time, the slow crackling of the wooden wick becoming hypnotic as the scent of apples mixed into the air. "It's been a long time since anyone tried to deny me a drink." She said, her voice harsh from the drink….or was it something else?

"Reisen would have…..She would have kept the bottles from me. " She whimpered, her voice full of bitter sadness. Her lip wavered, and before Issac knew what he was doing, he put an arm around waist, pulling her close to him. She looked at him with a strange look, halfway between understanding and something else…Pain? Issac couldn't tell.

Before he even had to say anything, she understood what the move was intended to do. She put her head on his shoulder, crying. He was giving her a bare comfort, having a shoulder to cry on. It was something so simple, something anyone could have offered, but it could often do a great deal to help. "Let it all out." He patted her head, gently brushing a hand through her hair.

It was now Issac noticed how harsh his voice was. He sounded like the last time he had a drink was weeks ago, and his throat felt like it had been longer. He would worry about getting some water later. Right now, this woman, whoever she was, needed him far more than he needed water to whet his throat. For now he simply ran a hand through her hair, looking out to the windows on the other side of the room, sighing as he watched the orange glow of a sunrise break off the edge of the horizon.

It would be a long day; Issac could feel in his head, his heart, and his gut. It would start by comforting a drunken woman as the sun rose, and he could feel that it was just the beginning.


End file.
